


A Brush of the Hands Can Be a Dangerous Thing

by Artemisausten



Category: The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Feels, Arranged Marriage, Bodyguard, Bodyguard AU, F/M, Forbidden Romance, Light Angst, Mal is kind of a jerk, Political Alliances, Political Campaigns, Romance, or I might just put any smutty parts in a separate story and leave this one tame, rating may go up I write more to this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 15:20:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28815546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemisausten/pseuds/Artemisausten
Summary: Written for a tumblr prompt, "brushing of the hands" for alarkling. But I couldn't help myself and turned it into a bodyguard AU story because I live for these.__________________________Some bodyguard he is, Aleksander thinks bitterly. He’s supposed to protecting her and keeping her away from any other men—but who’s going to protect Alina from him?Alina isn’t aware of this inner battle of Aleksander’s, but if she was, she certainly wouldn’t be making it any easier on him. She brushes her platinum hair back, tucking it behind an ear as she forces herself to take one strong step toward him. She’s dimly aware that this isn’t a good idea, that she shouldn’t be so forward and she should be keeping her distance from the dark allure of Aleksander Morozova.She doesn’t care. “Then maybe you’d like to come up for a few minutes,” she suggests. She tries to keep her voice casual, although she’s not sure she succeeds. She swallows against her dry throat, smoothing her tongue over her lips as she takes a step toward him, noticing the way his eyes are drawn to her mouth as she wets them. “We could have a drink.”
Relationships: Mal Oretsev/Alina Starkov, The Darkling | Aleksander Morozova & Alina Starkov, The Darkling | Aleksander Morozova/Alina Starkov
Comments: 6
Kudos: 39





	A Brush of the Hands Can Be a Dangerous Thing

It isn’t like what Alina expects when her hand just casually brushes against Aleksander’s, their palms barely touching when he reaches out for her in a gesture to help her from the car. It isn’t necessary, they both know. He’s not a valet, and she doesn’t need the help, but it isn’t about that, anyway. It’s about the contact, the desire to touch, the _need_ to see what the other feels like as he comes so very close to taking her hand in his before pulling away abruptly and taking an awkward step back. Aleksander stands stiffly, hands clasped behind his back as if it’s the only way he’ll keep from reaching out for while he waits for her to step out of the car.

It’s isn’t what Alina expects at all. She has to take a few seconds to collect herself before she can make another move, hand still tingling from the shock of electricity, the warmth of Aleksander’s fingertips. A brief touch, that was all it was, but it was different from anything she’d ever experienced before.

Oh, Alina was used to being touched. As the Sun Summoner, the daughter of one of the most important political figures in Ravka, Alina is practically adored and beloved. She’s shaken enough hands and hugged enough strangers that she’s lost count of them all. They all faded and blurred into one person as she tried to imagine them, blending into an amalgamation of features that were distant and forgettable each time she tried to picture them. She’s comforted strangers, made friends with her father’s political rivals, and yes, she’s even stooped to kissing babies—even though it feels like a such cheap political ploy that Alina had needed to bite the inside of her mouth hard enough to draw blood to keep from scowling.

And then there’s Mal—trusty Mal, always by her side. Always ready to hold her or kiss her or give her anything of himself that she desires. She’s gotten lost in the kisses she’s shared with Mal, every caress tender and warm with the kind of familiarity that only comes from years and years of being together. She pushes herself out of the backseat of the car numbly, distantly aware of how she can barely remember a time when she _wasn’t_ with Mal, before all those gentle embraces and kisses to her forehead, and the way he holds her body against his at night.

But this—this is completely different. This touch, she thinks, is lightning. Like having slept through her entire life and suddenly, as Aleksander’s fingers ghost over the skin of her wrist, his palm warm as it drifted against hers only briefly before he pulled away, Alina is wide awake. Her entire body is alive with the awareness of _Aleksander_ , of his tall form beside her, his long black bangs falling into his eyes as he watches her.

Aware, she realizes, of the power hidden beneath his tailored black suit, carefully controlled as he waits for her.

Aleksander Morozova, Alina thinks, is dangerous company to keep—and not because he’s there to protect her.

Her mouth feels dry as she pulls herself to her feet, shaky in her heels and adjusting her black pencil skirt as she tries to steady herself. It doesn’t matter what his touch feels like, she reminds herself. She’s engaged to Mal, her marriage the careful planning of two powerful political families. The marriage has been planned since they were both children, the seemingly perfect union as the two had met and instantly taken to each other. Nothing in those many years had ever come between them, and nothing was about to.

Nothing at all.

“I don’t think you need to accompany me everywhere, Morozova.” Alina’s voice sounds distant when she hears it, slipping on some of the words as she tries to sound unaffected. She’s grateful for the distance between the two of them, even if it doesn’t seem distant enough to stop her from feeling the warmth of his body in the freezing Ravkan winter. “This is my family’s hotel, after all.”

Aleksander clenches one hand behind his back, the only sign that he’s struggling to maintain his control. The job is a simple one, he reminds himself. Watch Alina Starkov. Escort her everywhere, save to her private rooms in the hotel. Protect her, no matter the cost to himself.

How, he wonders, could one job be so easy and yet so fucking hard?

Don’t touch her, he thinks, she doesn’t belong to him. She belongs to Mal, and Aleksander is here to make sure that she stays that way.

“I think your girlfriend can make up her own mind about the company she wants to keep,” Aleksander remembers saying to Mal when Mal had hired him.

Mal glared at him as he’d poured himself a drink, the amber liquid forming a generous serving that Mal intended to follow with another. “ _You’re_ there to make sure that she doesn’t _have_ to think about it.”

Which was really just another way of saying that Mal, and Alina’s family, didn’t want to risk her straying too far from their plans for her. Well, fine. That wasn’t his business.

Or it hadn’t been.

Or—or—oh, hell. This whole thing had gotten out of hand. His hand clenches so tightly that his fingernails dig into his palm, threatening to draw blood if he doesn’t let go. “My job is to go where you go and stay by your side, until you’re safely back to your room,” he responds tightly, body almost aching with the effort not to reach out for her.

He wants to know it would be like to touch her again. No, he thinks, he wants to know what it would be like to _really_ touch her, to place his hands on the bare skin of her neck and to lean in close to her until they’re sharing the same breath and to claim her lips with his own. Just for a moment.

Just once.

Some bodyguard he is, Aleksander thinks bitterly. He’s supposed to protecting her and keeping her away from any other men—but who’s going to protect Alina from him?

Alina isn’t aware of this inner battle of Aleksander’s, but if she was, she certainly wouldn’t be making it any easier on him. She brushes her platinum hair back, tucking it behind an ear as she forces herself to take one strong step toward him. She’s dimly aware that this isn’t a good idea, that she shouldn’t be so forward and she should be keeping her distance from the dark allure of Aleksander Morozova.

She doesn’t care. “Then maybe you’d like to come up for a few minutes,” she suggests. She tries to keep her voice casual, although she’s not sure she succeeds. She swallows against her dry throat, smoothing her tongue over her lips as she takes a step toward him, noticing the way his eyes are drawn to her mouth as she wets them. “We could have a drink.”

_Say yes_ , Alina prays silently. Just for a few minutes—just the two of them, alone together.

_Say no_ , Aleksander’s mind screams. Nothing good can come of it. He needs to keep his distance from her. He needs to protect her. He needs to stay focused on the job.

“One drink.” The words leave Aleksander’s mouth without his permission, clipped and sharp with the effort it takes to force them out against his will. Two words, that’s all it takes to spell Aleksander’s doom. He’s not sure he can follow Alina to her room—he’s not sure he has the strength to stop himself from touching her again if he does.

But Alina is smiling triumphantly, and if Aleksander wasn’t already gone, then he is the moment he sees that smile. What would it be like to kiss those lips, pale and soft in dim evening light as the clouds threaten to snow and the wind is bitterly cold? What would it be like to hold her against him, just for a moment, to feel the curves of her body against the hard edges of his and rest his forehead against hers and to just revel in the nearness of her?

What would it be like to cross that line?

“Good.” Alina wants to find out as much as Aleksander does, unaware of the trouble it will bring them both when Mal discovers that his Sun Summoner has eyes for someone else.

A simple brush of the hands can be a dangerous thing between the right people.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are always appreciated as I live for external validation. And also I'm in love with this idea, so if you are, too, leave me a comment. Also, find me on tumblr @artemisausten


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